


Fathers' Day

by anactoria



Series: Desserts [3]
Category: Pet Shop of Horrors
Genre: Dessert & Sweets, Family, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/347949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anactoria/pseuds/anactoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This particular occasion can be a little fraught for both our heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fathers' Day

**Author's Note:**

> Third in a series of linked ficlets written in 2009, for the stagesoflove community on LJ. Prompt: cookies.

"Peanut-butter cookies? Didn't think these were your usual thing, Count." Leon picks one up between his fingers. It's star-shaped, and slightly lopsided, like something drawn by an unskilled hand. The one next to it has a smiley face, all done in rainbow sprinkles, and that's lopsided, too.

D sniffs. "Chris brought them from school. A Fathers' Day project, apparently."

Leon takes a bite and flops down on the couch, snorting. That's bullshit, if you ask him. Just an excuse to sell more cards and candy and useless crap that no-one's ever going to look at again after the thank-yous have been said. 

And way to rub in the fact that neither he nor Chris has a father worth speaking of, just assholes who dropped off the face of the earth and left Mom in the lurch when she needed them most.

It's not that way anymore, though. Leon's gonna make damn sure of that. He's old enough to take care of Chris now, be a father-figure to him. And Chris has D, too.

He shakes his head. Where did _that_ come from?

Speaking of D, he isn't making the usual polite chit-chat today. He looks kind of-- pensive, in fact, and he isn't stuffing his face the way he normally does when faced with something sugary. (Okay, sure, D's manners are never less than Emily Post-perfect, but Leon knows face-stuffing when he sees it, no matter how fancily it's dressed up.)

"D?" he says, a shade more cautiously than usual. "You okay, man?"

D blinks then, and composes his features into a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Quite well, thank you, Detective," he says, smoothly, and plucks a cookie off the plate. 

But he only takes the tiniest bite and then lapses back into thought, turning it over between his slender fingers.

Of course. The shop apparently belongs to D's grandfather, but Leon's never once heard D voluntarily mention his father. Perhaps he doesn't get on with his old man. Family argument, or something. Which figures, if they're anything alike; two of the smug little bastards in one room would be too much for anybody to handle.

Still, he knows it has to be tough. Not having a dad was bad enough, but Leon never argued with his mom, not really. He can't imagine what it's like having parents you can't stand. 

"Hey," he tries, and puts a hand on D's forearm, gently as he knows how. "It's okay. My dad was an asshole too, you know. I get it."

"I'm sure you do." D's tone is as condescending as ever, but then Chris races into the front room with the raccoon and that weird goat-thing hot on his heels, and the shadow lifts a little from his eyes.


End file.
